


Desperate Measures

by YumeSin



Category: Disgaea (Games), Disgaea 4: A Promise Unforgotten
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Spanking, paddle spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeSin/pseuds/YumeSin
Summary: A gift to my friend 3: Hope you enjoy! : D This is also my first time writing fenval so let me know if I got their characterizations/dynamic  accurate in the comments!Sorry I've been dead it's been so hard to write these days ;w;





	Desperate Measures

It had been a quiet day in Hades. The prinnies were toiling away to pay off their sins per usual. A stench of sardines could be smelled throughout the area, tracing back to the usual suspect. Tyrant Valvatorez was in his quarters, devouring one after another. While the concept bothered Fenrich greatly, there was little that could be done. His Lord refused to drink blood and accepted such a ghastly substitute. Any discussion on the matter had the usual dismissal and barrage of factual information. Fenrich hadn’t a care for any of it. He only took it as a sign that his Lord was not ready to return to his true greatness. As a result, many of their discussions lately ended with awkward silence, neither willing to see the others point of view.

 

Today was no different, Fenrich standing in his usual spot as his Lord gorged sardines. The now empty platter rested on top of a cabinet, the Tyrant standing up and facing his companion. The face Fenrich stared at was covered in bites of that god awful fish, a childish smirk growing on the others face.  

 

Stepping forward, the wolf brought his hand to brush off the remainder, the Tyrant responding with a pout.  

 

“Fenrich, I was just about to take care of that,” Valvatorez grumbled, “There’s no need for that.” Silence was answer usually given in times like these, Fenrich wiping his hands on a napkin to clear off any sardine bits. After that had been done, Fenrich made movement to step back, only to be stopped by the powerful voice of the Tyrant.

 

“Hold it,” Valvatorez said,  taking a step closer, “There’s something we’ve been needing to discuss.” 

 

“And what would that be my Lord?” Fenrich stated, keeping his eyes on those crimson ones. Unwavering, the face before the wolf stayed calm. There wasn’t a response for a few seconds, an inquisitive look on each of their faces. Fenrich hadn’t known his Lord for being hesitant, so was tempted to press more on the issue. But, before that could occur, Valvatorez made his way back to cabinet where the sardine plate was. Within a few moments, a leather paddle was pulled from the drawer. Fenrich raised his eyebrow at this, now too insanely curious to stay put.

 

“And what is that for?” Fenrich questioned, his gaze turning stern on the vampire. Valvatorez answered with a hearty chuckle, shaking his head as he extended the paddle to his wolf companion. 

 

“I’ve been dreading our usual banter lately. You can’t seem to accept my refusal to drink blood. So, after observing your character and what tends to work best, I’ve determined you may have an eye for physical punishment in a way. So, as a test,” Valvatorez explained, placing the handle of the paddle in the others hand, “I want you to use this on me to express your frustrations. Not that it will change my mind, but, for you to...vent a bit differently.” 

 

The wolf’s face was filled with bewilderment. What had gotten into his Lord to provoke such a precarious offer? The two had slain many powerful enemies on the battlefield together, and with a paddle, Fenrich was supposed to cull his worries?  

 

“I’m failing to see the practicalities of this. My first and foremost concern will always be your wellbeing my Lord,” Fenrich spoke, hardly gripping the base of the paddle. The leather padding near the top appeared large enough to hit a good portion of Valvatorez, and despite the wolf’s words, he observed the paddle closely. 

 

“And, if that is the case,” Valvatorez responded, allowing himself to stretch alongside a couch, “You’ll voice your concerns through that paddle.” The entirety of the situation felt a bit strange. Fenrich took a step closer, trying to read the others face. All that could be understood were those crimson eyes were staring right back, as if waiting for the first hit to land. There was an impasse, though partly attributed to Fenrich’s confusion regarding the orders. Why would any Tyrant willingly allow his servant to bash at him? But, as Fenrich’s unwavering track record would show, he’d never lack follow through. 

 

With a deep inhale, Fenrich first closed his eyes. He had to convince himself this was okay first. Fenrich tried to think of a stranger request before, but this one had to be one of the most eccentric. His hands reached forward, eyes opening to squint at the body that laid before him. Valvatorez had his chest to the couch, face looking over at where the couch met the wall.

 

“I haven’t seen you hesitate for so long. If we were on the battlefield, we’d be dead by now,” Valvatorez added, his face turned to the other with a obnoxious chuckle. Fenrich hitched a gasp at the comment. Instinctively bringing his hand up, the wolf slammed down the first contact with the paddle against Valvatorez’s back. There hadn’t been much more than a sigh that left his Lord’s mouth, unimpressed. 

 

“Is this your frustration right now? It hardly feels like a pet peeve,” Valvatorez egged on, seeming to wiggle his body on the couch. This drew an annoyed look on Fenrich’s face, raising the paddle just above his head. 

 

“It feels worthless for a paddle to fully communicate what you repeatedly deny to do, my Lord,” Fenrich answered, keeping his hold steady as his eyes match with the Tyrant’s. 

 

“Then you must not feel earnestly about what is bothering you. I expected more of you, Fenrich,” Valvatorez, tsking as his head shook, arms making movement to stand. But, at the slight mention of failure, the wolf clicked his tongue. The hand that had the paddle hoisted itself higher before slamming against the Lord’s ass this time, coming back up and down several times. 

 

Valvatorez allowed his arms to stretch out and clutch onto the couch beneath him, no longer having the fortitude to speak much on things.The paddle was filling in the silence now, slapping against the vampire’s ass in repetitive motions. It wasn’t until Fenrich counted out ten powerful hits that he stopped, crossing his arms and awaiting more feedback. He couldn’t have seen his point come across much clearer. The fingers Valvatorez had onto the couch eased a bit, his face now looking down toward the floor.    
  
“...Much stronger feelings. Though, I still have my doubts. Is this to the extent you feel, Fenrich,” Valvatorez managed to question, turning his head back to the floor as he finished it. His wolf companion would stall a bit, eying his Lord in struggling to figure out how to make the point clearer. His eyes stopped around the black material that covered the more sensitive portions of skin. Upon the previous comments and gestures, the wolf felt he needed to do something to get things through better. 

 

In a fluid motion, Fenrich reached out, pulling Valvatorez’s pants down to reveal his reddened ass before landing more hits. These strikes were stronger, causing the cheeks to move from pink to red. There was no  skin broken but the crack of the paddle was all that could he heard clearly. Underneath the couch were slight but well needed scratch marks by the vampire, keeping his mouth shut tight as Fenrich continued to relay his feelings. The pull from his pants seemed unexpected as Valvatorez now seemed to struggle with the pain. It grew from laughable to unbearable in moments, Fenrich’s resolve poignant with each stinging hit. 

 

Shaky breaths escaped the vampires mouth, hands gripping the couch legs as the hits became more brutal. His taut red ass somehow managed to get redder in the final series of thrashes, Fenrich placing a foot on the couch to get a better angle. There was little that could get in the way when Fenrich wanted to please, to satisfy, to completely satiate whatever  stipulation his Lord gave him. And the wolf wanted to leave no trace of failure on this task. 

 

Valvatorez could barely release the couch when the hits finished, the total hits now being thirty. The silence in the room spoke volumes, though, there was still something missing. The wolf wouldn’t be pleased unless his Lord confirmed the job had been completed satisfactorily.

 

Fenrich leaned over, with one foot still on the couch, whispering, “Does that make it clear?” Valvatorez stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. The Tyrant simply wanted his companion to have a  new way of venting, a form of release besides their bickering. But this felt...different. The redness that was on his ass could be seen in his cheeks, turning slightly to allow Fenrich to view. When the faces were shown to each other, the silence became thick, unusually...tense. It felt like the two would collapse if they let out a single exhale. 

 

“Maybe just a little...bit more,” Valvatorez spoke, hoping none of his true emotions read through the statement, face turning away from Fenrich, “I was close to understanding.” Fenrich watched this play out. The wolf was near certain that his emotions were clear, the hits were robust, and the strength was adequate. It was odd. But, as to deter failure, Fenrich would proceed.

 

The wallops were the same strength and frequency, Fenrich was certain he just needed to keep the pace up once more. His Lord seemed quiet, still, and his hands gripped the couch legs this time. The Tyrant would allow his legs to spread out, the pants that were partially pulled now halfway down his legs. Soft panting came from Valvatorez mouth, only gagged by his lips pulling inward. Fenrich would catch onto this and only stop when he finished another round of thirty. 

 

“Aa...enough for now, Fenrich,” Valvatorez spoke, attempting to collect himself. The fingers that gripped tightly loosened and touched the floor underneath him. His crotch had been awfully aching, desiring more, but knowing if they went much further...things could get messy. More silence filled the room, the paddle being tossed to the couch’s cushions.

 

“Understood. Do you require assistance, My Lord?” Fenrich asked, a smug grin on his face. He dared the other to challenge his resolve, his strength, his loyalty. It would never waver. And, with how vulnerable his liege was, it brought a sense of adrenaline to it all. 

 

“Oh, no need--a, actually. Check on the prinnies for me, they’ve been slacking off around this time,” Valvatorez directed, barely able to shift himself up to look at his companion.  With hands behind his back, the wolf nodded, making quick steps toward the room’s exit. 

 

“Understood. I will report back to you immediately if they are caught slacking,” Fenrich answered, turning to face his Lord one last time. With his dick throbbing, Valvatorez struggled to keep up his facade. He gave a solemn nod and watched his companion leave the room.

 

...Though, to Fenrich’s usual intelligence, he knew the prinnies never slacked off around this time. When would they ever slack off with the Tyrant overseeing them? And, with that, Fenrich learned a strange weakness of his Lord. And there was no doubt they would both succumb to its impacts one day. The deep longing that rested within the wolf’s heart only grew when he first saw that scarlet blush grow on each pair of his Lord’s cheeks.


End file.
